The stands stood barren, the stone bleachers broken in many places due to time. The coarse walls were covered in dirt and blood long dried by the beating sun rays. No one had been to this arena for quite some time, and for proper reason. Not a single challenge had been made for years.

However, times changed. History often repeats itself, but in what ways are unforthcoming. A man stood readily at one side of the Arena, his appearance lively in the deserted battlefield.

A dark red t-shirt was accompanied by a pair of basic jeans and black and white sneakers. A singular sword rested upon his back, the leather strap holding the scabbard stretching diagonally across the man's chest.